


Some Like it Older

by blueteak



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: First Time, Jealousy, M/M, X-Men First Class Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-28
Updated: 2011-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-25 01:18:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueteak/pseuds/blueteak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles has always been attracted to older men. While on the mutant-finding road trip, he sleeps with a man who resembles his former thesis supervisor. Erik is jealous. Written for the "Charles likes older men" prompt at First Class Kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Like it Older

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt at First Class Kink:

  
Pairing: Charles/Other, Charles/Erik  
Rating: NC-17. Seriously.  
Notes: Written for this prompt at First Class Kink:  
<http://1stclass-kink.livejournal.com/7315.html?thread=12856723#t12856723>

  
Charles slid his money across the bar and took his shot, body flooding with warmth that eased the knots in his back. He scrunched his shoulder blades up and back and rolled his head from side from side to side, thoroughly loosening up, face open and relaxed, if slightly flushed.

When he was able to process anything beyond his body’s newfound lack of tension, he looked up and realized he was being…appraised by someone who slightly resembled his former thesis supervisor.

God, the times Dr. Evers had come up behind him in the labs, standing close enough that Charles could feel the man’s body heat….Charles would have given anything to be able to relax into the body behind him, have fingertips ghost down his stomach before firmly gripping him….

Charles was jolted out of his fantasies by the sudden amusement on the other man’s face. Charles blushed. Christ, his mouth was practically hanging open. He licked his now dry lips and in the space of a second the man was coming his way.

“You look like you need another,” he said brushing against Charles as he leaned across the bar to catch the bartender’s attention.

“I…well, thank you” Charles managed to get out when the man presented him with a shot and then clinked glasses with him.

Charles already had the glass to his lips by the time he realized that the man wasn’t drinking yet and was instead looking at the long line of Charles’s exposed throat.

Charles knocked it back, but this time more self-consciously. His early sense of warm relaxation, the feeling that he got after swimming a mile, was gone, replaced with the prickling sensation he got when he knew he was about to be well fucked.

The man leaned in, whispered a room number and then left without looking back.

Now here was a man who’d never used a groovy mutation line in his life. Sure he’d get what he wanted. Charles wasn’t in the mood to prove him wrong.

  
Which was how he found himself in a hotel room a floor above the room he shared with Erik getting well and truly fucked against a desk. He’d mumbled something about the guy’s similarity to his thesis supervisor before he could stop himself and had waited, mortified, for the man to take offense and tell him to leave.

Instead, the man smiled something about it being a little kinky, gave his bum a light smack and told him to strip his bottom layers off and lean over the desk. Charles almost lost control there and then when memories of climaxing to several "supervisor's desk" fantasies overtook him.

Charles gripped the front edge of the desk, not wanting to press himself all over the man’s papers, and presented his arse, offering everything. He was allowed to maintain that position while the man prepared him, slow and careful, but was then encouraged to lean over the desk and hold on.

When it was over, after he’d come with a shout and squeezed the man’s orgasm out of him, he got up, hair mussed, hip bones starting to bruise from where they’d slammed against the desk. His white dress shirt was soaked with sweat and covered with smudges of ink.

The man—Tom, he thought his name was—had smiled proudly and fetched a towel to clean him off his front as best he could.

When the aftershocks of orgasm left him and he felt relaxed in yet another way—this evening was really helping after having been cooped up in the car for weeks—he said his thanks and left, wondering whether—and how—he would explain his absence from Erik. Maybe he wouldn’t need to say anything. Erik was a fairly private person, after all and would probably consider whatever had happened to be Charles’s business.

Charles had always been an optimist. He’d come in as quietly as he could (maybe Erik was asleep!), but no, there he was, reading a book and looking as though he’d been waiting up for Charles. Christ.

His expression as soon as he’d looked—truly looked—at Charles had turned cold and distant. Charles had been too shocked to break eye contact and move, even to shut the door.

As Erik’s gaze raked over his body, taking in all the sweat and ink, the fingerprint marks on his wrist, all the metal in the room started to vibrate.

Finally, Erik swung his legs off of his bed and stalked toward Charles. Charles held his ground near the door and was forced to look up to maintain eye contact when Erik got too close.

Erik continued to pin Charles in place with a look, gaze failing to waver even as he reached around him to slam and lock the door.

“What happened?” Erik gritted out.

Charles managed to get something like "thesis supervisor," "desk", and "amazing" out before Erik cut him off with a raised hand. A beautiful raised hand with fingers that could reach…

Charles wondered whether he’d accidentally projected that last bit because Erik now looked slightly less severe.

“Let me understand,” he asked, circling Charles. “You went to an old man upstairs—“

“He was only in his mid-forties!” Charles exclaimed indignantly.

Erik’s hand went up again. “An old man upstairs, Charles. When you could have had me.”

Charles, who had gotten hard again, decided to take a move from the old man upstairs’s book. “I can still have you, no?” He asked in his most cool, assured voice.

He sauntered over to the bed and began unbuttoning his shirt, fixing Erik with a challenging stare.

Erik shook his head, smiling dangerously and come closer. “You” he said softly, reaching out to grab a section of the sweat-soaked shirt “have no idea what you’re dealing with” and ripped.

He grabbed the back of Charles’s head and pulled him into a bruising, claiming kiss. And then suddenly they were on the bed, writhing, wrestling getting the rest of one another’s clothes off. Erik pinned Charles’s wrists, digging his fingers into the marks the other man had left, overlaying them with his own, and rubbed his cock along Charles’s, making him throw back his head, curl his fingers and toes and beg.

But Erik was not in a forgiving mood. Finally, Charles couldn’t take it anymore. He broke Erik’s hold and positioned himself on top of him before Erik could blink.

Erik was about to call out a warning that it would hurt when he realized that Charles’s hole was still slick with something.

This slippery, intimate reminder that someone else had just been inside Charles drove him over the edge. He managed to flip them over and get Charles’s legs over his shoulders before resolutely slamming in.

Charles sucked in a pained gasp, but bucked up against Erik, wanting more. Erik was in no mood to let Charles dictate the pace, not with another man’s come inside him. He pressed Charles down, hands gripping his bruised hips, and pumped into him slowly, delighting in Charles’s throaty moans, watching their sweat turn his hair darker.

When he sensed that they were about to come, he caught Charles’s lips in another kiss, gentler this time.

They shared an easy silence after Erik pulled out, catching their breaths. After they'd enjoyed the feeling of sex-melted limbs to the point where they'd fall asleep in another second, Erik patted Charles’s hip.

“Up, Charles. We’ve got to clean you up before sleep.” Charles rolled over onto his side, responding with something that sounded suspiciously like “gggggggrrrhhhh.”

Erik shook his head, then cleaned himself off in the bathroom before returning with a wet washcloth for Charles. He washed gently around Charles’s front, making him jerk at the cloth’s cold roughness. He then moved around to get between Charles’s cheeks, wincing slightly when he saw the evidence of how rough both he and the other man had apparently been. The cool cloth was a little more soothing when applied there, though, and Charles moaned contentedly.

Erik turned off the lights and climbed in, wrapping his arms around Charles.

“Are you still upset about the other man?” Charles asked sleepily. “Because you know I wouldn’t have gone to him if I’d known how you felt.”

Erik pressed a kiss to the back of his head “No. After all, without the old man we may not have gotten together for a while. But promise me, Charles, no more old men.”

“Yes, Erik. Just you.”

Charles earned himself a nip on the ear when Erik figured out what he was implying, but that was as rough as he got with Charles for quite some time. Until he thought Charles was looking a little too lustily at Humphrey Bogart.


End file.
